


Forgetting the Dates

by Kazeit



Category: Arctic Monkeys, British Singers RPF, Last Shadow Puppets
Genre: M/M, hah this is cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-17
Updated: 2015-07-17
Packaged: 2018-04-09 18:54:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4360484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kazeit/pseuds/Kazeit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I just know his first name. I reckon… it has to be very weird to know this stuff of someone I don’t even know that good.</p><p>Next time I see him, I will try to do more than just wave him hello and goodbye"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forgetting the Dates

I see him. I watch him in silence for a long time and he never realizes it. And I don’t know why. Even trying to analyze it and get to the imminent answer scares me.

I watch his movements; his back curves behind the sport polo and it’s almost sick the emotion I feel when his vertebras are visible even under the thick fabric. And I can’t comprehend it. I should have just forgotten about the matter and how much it makes my head spin that the fact that he an me are both boys a long ago. I only know… that when I see him, I don’t know what the hell do I have to do and that annoys me so fucking much…

I analyze his expression: Soft; medium, brown puppy eyes. Long pointy nose, adorable crooked grin, slim face, pale skin, and shiny, long brown hair. And I know, I’m such a fag for describing him like a charming fucking prince, like he is. Like I see him.

I know he plays. I have seen him playing the guitar to his friends sometimes, even singing. His voice makes knees go weak, palms sweaty, hearts go crazy. And I talk in plural, because I’m sure… I’m not the only one who thinks like that, am I?

I just know his first name. I reckon… it has to be very weird to know this stuff of someone I don’t even know that good.

Next time I see him, I will try to do more than just wave him hello and goodbye.

 

Alex, Oct 4th.

 

\--

 

The days keep going, slowly, quickly… But none of them goes how I need it to be going. He and I are friends already, it seems that we are good with that, but I don’t stop fitting everything he does, every move, expression, glance, into some fantasy I myself create. And I hate that. Because I know it isn’t real and he will never correspond me.  Could it be dumb to imagine that? Perhaps one day it will happen… but actually I don’t believe it.

It is very cold where I am, outside the library, and I don’t know If I should go, because he himself made this appointment to help him study which now that I think about it is pretty strange, seeing him getting really good grades…

Sighing this much can’t be normal.

 

Alex, Oct 18th.

\--

He _upsets_ me. I can’t fucking _stand_ him.

He has this way of acting that make me lose me fucking head in a very, _very_ bad way, and the worst part is that I still want to fight him. He hides so much knowledge and has a marvelous, sweet way of thinking behind that fucking “You are all under my foot” way to act. I hate when he does that… whenever I’m close enough, whenever I barely touch whit my fingertips just a little of that warm attitude, he closes it and it makes me go disgustingly angry. I want more, I want more of him, and I want him to act maturely, to stop hiding. I want to know everything about him, I want him to stop playing dumb and acting to keep his cool in front of his so called _mates._

I want to know him completely, to know what his girlfriends have felt, and to know if he is now mature enough to not say I love you past a week of being with a girl. Because he told me, that. Because when I tried to tell him he was wrong, he scoffed, offended and he left me where I am now, again in the library, with small rain drops in my coat and a bad feeling.

…It will sound very sick, but that face he made, full of frustration and anger towards me couldn’t be more sensual. I wish I could touch his hands once again, and this time, a real contact; not an awkward bump of fingers under the table, trying to pick the sharpener from the floor.

 

Alex, Oct 27th

 

\--

 

And weeks keep going by, and I keep talking to him. I’m very happy because I don’t like to hate anybody. I have enough trust to touch his soft silky hair and to say “can I smell it” and he feels comfortable enough to nod and say “go on”.

I can hug him in front of people, and he corresponds the hugs, and I can smell him and he smells like a lot of stuff, and he switches perfumes by day because one day he smells like strong, manly man, and the next he smells of cinnamon… and that.

Sometimes he just smells like Miles.

It is very curious. Matt and Jamie don’t seem to mind, not even Mal or Andy. It’s like they don’t realize it, even. I don’t doubt there’s something slightly prohibited in being this close. Sometimes people at school see us and I can see the question ‘what the fuck’ on their faces. It’s upsetting, but I just _cannot_ say something because he and I are nothing, neither. And it would be absolutely and utterly an auto-goal if I go and discuss with someone our displays of “romance-friendship-whatever”

It’s… complicated. Now I just want some time alone with Miles and let happen what it has to happen.

 

Alex, Nov 1st

\--

 

Things continue to get better or worse, depending the matter or how I feel with the situation. He, stays fine, as always. I really shouldn’t say that he is ‘happy’ because he always make that fucking ‘I’m better that everything’ face mixed with light disgust. (And he is slightly disgusting by everything, to be honest. Especially worms and bugs in general) we are growing closer…

Sometimes, he and I fight in a playful way. He says something stupid, I say one back, he punches, laughing, I kick him, giggling, then things start getting hot, and not in that way. I mean, he bites me, and I do as well, grinning widely, and we pull each other’s hair and we laugh hysterically and it’s just weird…

Because once we had one of these fights alone, in his house.

And yeah, I think I better say how it was. It started as habitual. I mocked him for having such skinny legs (which I found incredibly attractive though, don’t get me wrong) and it developed as habitual, too; a bitten hand, a hair pull, and I was going to dump him on the floor to scream at him that he was an idiot and I don’t know what… but I didn’t thought that he was going to toss me first

And then I didn’t him biting my shoulder, my cheek and my neck… and then licking it, and doing the same with my earlobes.

I got up before Miles froze a second just watching me without a word and got up himself slowly and calmly. I think that calmly… because his hands were trembling.

And he said “I think you are sensible” and he smiled.

He smiled one of those movie smiles and I don’t lie. One of those people in books say that are radiant and you never forget. But this one was different. It was one of those smiles you give right after you pay a prostitute, one that says that summat is wrong. A temptation. And it was disgustingly charming.

 

Alex, Nov 7th

 

 

\--

 

Don’t talking about what happened should mean something? What he did should mean something? What I felt, should too? Sometimes I ask myself how I can bloody want to be with him. Like I ask myself how he has kissed that very long list of birds… how many breasts has he touched, to know if he ever slept with someone… or if he has touched someone.

Thinking about it… makes me want to touch him. To feel again the bite he gave me even though I still feeling like a ghost in my neck, and I trace it with my fingers… and I bring my hand down, down… and I gets to the bottom…

And I end up very tired, and full of regret to be thinking that stuff, worried to even imagine the face Miles would pull if he knew I touch myself thinking of how he touches…

 

And in school, he takes it as a game. I think is because it actually is. He takes every little opportunity he has to touch my neck or to bit me. And now Nick sees us a little weird and Jamie does too. To be honest it does not bother me, like at all.

But it scares me feeling what I feel, I like him. I like him a lot.

Days pass, and I feel less awkward whenever he does some of his larks. I even play them back in the most _kinky (is that how it’s written?)_ way I could think of. Sometimes I whisper next to his ear, or I send him indecorous propositions on little papers whilst in class…

And the most daring thing I’ve made is ask him for a kiss. To which he answers a quiet “No, man” and laughs weirdly. A strange kind of giggle that make him go red and sweaty.

And I still looking at him with heart eyes.

With time, my fear to ask for something that daring and at the same time so innocent exceeded my limits. Now I was chasing after him like a cat, rubbing literally against his shoulder and it wasn’t a morning in which I didn’t took his hands and sat with him. I kept believing that nothing was even remotely wrong because it was _a game_ , and it seemed that we both liked to play.

What I never thought of, was a sudden movement of his hand that marked everything.

He got rid of my hand and whispered in my ear.

“I know you don’t say it as a game”

And I froze. I didn’t know about what was he talking about. What is one supposed to say to that?

“What?” I said.

“I know you really want me to kiss you. I know you feel more that just curious about it… but do me a favour and stop making everything so notorious… people is starting to make faces at us and it’s very uncomfortable”

My mind was blank. How many secrets can I keep? I would like to say that what I felt at that very moment was simply acceptation, and that I just stop playing with his had calmly. But what I did was looking at him with watering eyes and throw the hand he was lying on my knee away from me.

I felt hurt, stupid, obvious and ridiculous. All at the same time. Did he know, now? Did he know what I felt for him? I can’t comprehend how I felt so fatal for something that wasn’t even bad. I can’t comprehend it even now.

Hurriedly, I hid behind the soccer field benches. And I just stood there scraping the hard layer of frost adhered to the metallic support of the bench, numb. I dint know why did I felt like that, like naked. And my plan was just scrap and forget…

But I have this luck that does exactly what I really hope doesn’t happen.  And like fifty minutes after or so, I heard the snow crunch and a pair of shiny Chelsea boots right beside me. And said:

“Hey”

I sniffed and I realized I was crying. Ridiculously and legitimately I was fucking crying, under the frozen benches, the last fucking day of school, with the protagonist of my wet dreams, without being rude or laughing whilst saying it.

I didn’t saw him.

“I’m sorry” I said.

And he looked at me and he turned my head to his face, and he looked around before looking at me straight to my eyes. He wrapped his arms in my waist and then he kissed me on the lips. Exactly after he whispered:

“We are bros, aren’t we?”…

I had to ask matt the day and hour three times just to make myself sure.

It wasn’t a dream.

After that, it all just stayed in a mute agreement. No one said nothing, and all were solved behind the field benches.

 

Alex, Nov 10th

 

\--

We looked for any moment to be as close as possible. He took my hands and I hugged him, sometimes both. And we excused ourselves with the fact that we were very close friends.

It were very cute moments, entire days without a single class inn which we all went out to get lunch and then to the park to talk about stupid stuff. I felt so great… I couldn’t be happier.

But… not everything lasts a century, innit?

Miles met this boy in one of his classes, very attractive, that kid. And long story short they became the closest mates ever instantly. Recess, classes, even chats with me in which Miles only talked about that fucking boy.

“…And the best part ‘s that he knows ‘ow to knock you in seconds” he told me one day, his heavy accent bringing notoriously when he was happy.

“Ah I want him to come to me ‘ouse”

I looked him smile to himself, I was biting my tongue.

But letting my anger aside, things between us got hotter.

Hotter, yes, in that way.

 

I discovered that his weak spot is the back, right between the shoulder blades.

I had him on my bed, shirtless, and I was making him several hickeys along the collar bone. My heart was going to explode, I remember it. I was scratching with my fingernails and biting his lip only because I knew it made him mad. I climbed over him, and I supported myself with my hands over the mattress, on each of his sides. I remember feeling a little strange, because my room has a full” body mirror next to the bed and I was able to see the curve of my back and my pose in it.

I thought it was funny. A toy truck could easily slide down the curve, and I felt really, really weird then. The sudden realization of what I was doing. I shook my head a little, starting to feel tickles in my underwear and a delicious pressure in my crotch that only told me to do something, quickly. So I put all my effort into just kissing him hard and maintaining his hair out of the way.

I slowly lowered myself over him just a little, there was a significant gap between us, though. I put my left hand under him, and just a light touch made him release the most delicious noise I could ever heard. He then arched his back, bumped his stomach against me, and I fell to the left side of the narrow bed.

When I looked over the bed, his face was red and I didn’t know what to feel. I just kissed him again, climbing on the bed again. This time he was on top, and I rubbed his back gently, then I scratched him roughly, and started touching inside his pants.

I think that is the softest thing I have ever touched.

I flipped him so he was lying on his back and I started to slowly kissing his stomach, but he stopped me.

“Not gonna do it”

I looked him to the eyes, very nervous suddenly.

“Fine” I said.

 

And we spend the rest of the evening doing nothing until he went to his house.

But that night… I didn’t sleep thinking. Why do I want to do it with him? Why do I wish to give him all? Why can’t he give me his all?

I just… whatever.

 

Alex, I don’t know what day is today, fuck it.

 

\--

Until this moment I didn’t know something bad was going to happen about what I was feeling. And all the hints my heart gave me, I just ignored them all. I ignored everything he did, all just to keep playing whatever, living an illusion.

“I like this bird” he told me. “I think I should that to ‘er more”

My jaw, my coffee, and my diva sparkles that I put on me every day for the joy he was bringing in my life, they all fell to the floor, and I heard them crush.

“Who?” I babbled, honestly expecting it to be some kind of fucking joke. But he repeated it, strong, smiling.

And it hurt. Oh you don’t even know… And I screamed to my insides because it was something I didn’t even expect to happen. And he then asked me to go with him to the benches.

I kissed him so hard, I was trying to eat him alive or something, I wanted to suck off of him the desire of another person, I wanted him mine and only mine. But deep in my head I knew, he was not mine, he never were.

And better not to let myself a fool, yeah? I just sat in one of the fucking benches and saw Jamie and Matt play with the team. Smiling like a fucking disgusting doll. Only to write this down.

 

Alex, today is a Monday.

\--

And we just kept doing it over and over again; I said clearly what I felt for him, and he just… kept going. It was the same, and it hurt me so much… because he went and shagged whoever he found and I just watched it smiling, dying. Because we never were nothing. And the fucking idiot who said “We are more than friends but less than lovers, perfect” HAS SHIT FOR BRAINS. Is not fucking funny.

It always hurts.

I said nothing, never. I was just a doll, chained to him, letting him go over me only because I didn’t want to lose him. How fucking pathetic am I?

And it were full class days in which we acted to be distant, just friends, just that. A casual ask about the class…

And then everything was clouds and stars under his boxers.

He never let me touch him and he never wanted to touch me either. That’s where I started to tell him the sweetest things I could think of only for him to answer me whit a plan thanks… and it was exhausting.

He demanded me.

He demanded me to smile sincerely and he wanted me to give him my heart when he went and grabbed others people’s hearts. And it stills being horrible.

 

Alex, Feb 1st

 

\--

I’m still doing it. I’m fucking still doing it. Crawling back to him, looking for his shadow to fit in, and then I now assume he is my drug. A drug so toxic t does not cause physical damage. I send him all kind of loving stuff and that shit to try to save what, since the very beginning, I knew it was very fucking dead.

I feared for him, for his well being. When we graduated high school, I texted him daily and I asked him to please tell me everything he was doing, but it was just a façade, I was jus feeding my growing hunger of stalking him, I was trying to control myself. And when he asked me how was I, well.

I just thank god the existence of emoji’s.

He is now talking to me about his new friends at his new school, about this girl he met, and now he is asking me for advice to get her on a date. He says he has a cute friend and that he could get us together if I want.

 I don’t have time or head to deal with this. I’m to busy being his to fall for somebody new…

But fuck this.

I’m done.

 

Alexander David Turner

 

\--

 

I see him, his hips now don’t provoke me. His movements don’t enchant me. But I do sigh like that one gym class, when I fell for him. And I ask myself if he ever had sighed like that for me, in the empty corners, in the lonely nights. I don’t believe it, I’m not a priority like he meant one to me.

He is coming towards me, he only nods and I take that as a greeting, I found him painfully handsome after a year of college without watching him not even once.

His lips are red, a girl.

“Hi, al” he says, sweetly.

“Miles…” My mouth can’t stop now –I’m leaving.

His face is a question, so I answer.

“I’m leaving this for good. I don’t think I deserve this” I look at him straight to his brown, puppy eyes.

He does not spoke again.

“I’m leaving the city too. I’m studying out.”

He looks hurt… does he have the right, though?

“I wish you luck with her, him …whatever. “ I give him a little smile.

“Why are you leaving? “ He finally says, a little chocked on his own breath.

I ran my hands through my hair, smiling bitterly.

“I think I tortured myself with my own thoughts long enough…” I grab my pack of cigarettes and slowly light one, he is watching. I don’t like being watched.

Now I know he finally realizes what have been happening this years. Years…

“It was good, Mi. We had fun, we still in contact” I hand him my zippo, a shiny silver one. He takes it with shaky hands.

I take my bag, standing. Heading towards the exit of the coffee where we are. He follows me.

“After all…” I face him, blowing the cig smoke on his face. “We are bros, aren’t we?”

I turn on my heel.

I will never go through this again.

 

…

 


End file.
